This year’s Christmas
letter hails from Southeast Asia. In
September, we made the voyage – 20+ hours flight time and a dozen bags of
luggage – to Hong Kong to settle a new home.
We’ve found the city to be beautiful, friendly, shocking, crowded, busy,
enlightening and intimidating. The
climate is tropical, space is small, all things are expensive and the pace is
fast. As expat rookies, the learning
curve is steep. The simple is hard. The routine is exotic.
We began our time in Hong
Kong in a small 31st floor service apartment in Kennedy Town, a
densely populated district on the northwest part of Hong Kong Island. The streets are lined with restaurants that proudly
hang their freshly roasted goose (without troubling to separate its head) and
‘wet markets’ where fresh produce is sold along side freshly butchered meat
(i.e., butchered on the spot). Alas,
Hong Kong is cosmopolitan and internationalize enough to have such Western
amenities such as a grocery store – albeit a grocery store where everything is
small and expensive. A bag of corn chips
is US$9 and a half-gallon of ice cream is US$15. Except ice cream isn’t sold in such a big
carton. A box of four popsicles was
actually labeled a “Family Pack”. Sort
of the antithesis of Costco where two or three gallon-size jars of mayonnaise
are bundled together for a value package.
We imported our own brand
of novelty – a family of six complete with a blond-haired, blue-eyed 3-year-old. From the time we landed with 12 pieces of
checked luggage to our arrival at a restaurant asking for two or three tables
to be combined so we can sit together, we received curious looks that conveyed
both bewilderment and gleeful anticipation of the monetary prize the patronage
of such a large group will bring. And
the fair-haired little boy? Stranger
Danger seminars have not reached this far east.
Complete strangers embrace Jason, doting and indulging him beyond
repair. Our shy, clingy mama’s boy seems
to find the attention liberating; unhealthily I think.
We are finding some
stability in our permanent flat. We live
in a high-rise apartment building, but we are down on the fourth floor. The sea is a short walk away and Jason
discovered that the rocky beach is fertile hunting grounds for snails. Buses, trains and taxis are our mode of transportation
now. After learning the system, we are
getting fairly proficient at getting around. The kids find public transportation to be a
source of freedom. They can’t drive, but
they can ride the train or hail a taxi.
We don’t miss driving much – the traffic is hectic, in part because they
drive on the wrong side of the road – because we can sit back and read or relax
until arriving. That’s not to say the
day Tim bought a 40” TV wasn’t challenging.
Two taxis pulled away once they saw that he was lugging a big TV
box. That day he missed his pickup
truck.
People often ask how we are adjusting. The simple answer is that we just are. We haven’t adjusted, but we are
adjusting. We are grateful for a chance
to see the world from the other side and sorely miss home at the same time. It
is stretching and challenging, but a rich experience at the same time. Some days are hard and some days are
amazingly fun. But they are all new
experiences that are far away that we never would have been able to have
without stepping across our Rubicon. You
can’t buy that at Wal-Mart.
The Christmas “feeling” is
of course different here. There are the
Christmas decorations around the city, shops promising special deals, etc. We play our favorite Sinatra Christmas album,
but there is still a missing feeling.
Maybe it’s the lack of crispness in the air from winter pushing its way
in. No it’s more than that. It’s the separation from friends and family
that are never cherished properly until they feel out of reach. No platter of Christmas goodies from the
neighbors. No driving around the neighborhood
admiring the Christmas lights – and commenting on who really went over the top
this year. No preparing for the
explanation of why Grandpa refuses to come over Christmas morning before 9am to
start the opening of presents. No get
togethers with friends; sometimes catching up on life, sometimes just doing
life together.
This Christmas we are
thankful for God’s blessing and more than ever thankful for our friends and
family. Merry Christmas from 8,000 miles
afar!
With love,
Tim, Shelley, Devon, Alexis,
Emma and Jason
